


My Starlight

by Tatsukoi



Series: Starlight [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Love, References to Depression, Temporary Amnesia, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-18 00:33:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7292407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tatsukoi/pseuds/Tatsukoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I know that both in movies and even less in books, Thranduil's wife is not mentioned. But it seems so sad and I had this idea when I rewatched the hobbit movies that gave me this idea<br/>- This WILL be a series :D this is only the epiloge</p><p>It is my first fic ever published. Tips in the comments and please feedback is asked. :3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Epilogue

Upon the battlement of Gundabad, a rageous battle was held. The dirt covered with both corpses of elf and orc alike. How cunning the elves of Mirkwood fought at the side of their King. One could spot the majestic ruler immediately in the crowd. He simply stood out with his pale blond mane fiercely dancing along his unmarked skin. Eyes His silver clad armour decorated with the blood of his enemies, painting the chaos that was going on amongst the battlement.

  
His sword clashing and carving deep wounds into the bodies of those standing in his way. Not one scratch had managed to taint that porcelain skin of the king of Mirkwoord. The man was cunning if not lethal to those whom had managed to awaken his temper. And a temper he had. Not one elf dared to come even near King Thranduil, none were idiotic enough to tempt the chance of being shouted at or worse. All but one, there was one elfling brave enough to face up against the raging king in order to calm him down. The queen of Mirkwood. Beautiful as she was. Her hair hung in subtle wave along her back. A porcelain skin so delicate and pale it made her look as if she were a living doll. And eyes, oh her eyes. Dark blue to match the star-filled night sky. Queen Gwilithiell was often rumoured to be the most beautiful creature amongst the elven kin. And she was his… His queen, his starlight.... When she’d smile, his rage smelted like snow on a warm summer’s day. How could it not? She had given him so much. A filled home, a son to love and most of all something to fill that empty hole inside. She was his guide and most dearest possession. And now she was fighting besides him, leaving their infant son home amongst the safe halls Mirkwood offered. But she could not. She could not bare the time she would have to wait in order to know if her husband had survived the awful affairs in Gundabad. Waiting to hear if the Mirkwood king had passed, leaving his infant son to rule.  
So there the royal couple stood, the queen filling their enemies with the poisonous arrows she had filled her quiver with. Her daggers quickly cutting the throat of an orc coming to attack the king. Her distraction, Gwilithiell had not seen the other one grabbing her by the neck.

  
Her hands grasping, clawing at the hand holding her up. How could she have been this idiotic, leaving her back turned towards the enemy. It had been one of the first lessons you were taught.  
“Lower your weapons, King Thranduil. And see what treasure I have here in my grasp.” The orc roared, lifting the she-elf off the ground. In the heat of battle, the elven king had not seen the terror going on behind him. Not until the menacing voice of the orc reaching his ears. Utter shock and panic spread across his body at the sight of his starlight, dangling above the edge of the battlements. “Melamin…”he whispered with eyes frozen upon the terrified gaze of his wife. What was he to do? He could not stand down as that would mean the end of the Mirkwood kin. The death of his people, the death of his son. Mirkwoord swarming with orcish bastards.  
He could not risk it all even if that meant letting his light be extinguished. He could not help her, not move or come near even tho his heart longed for nothing more then to crack the skull but somewhere he knew the Mirkwood Queen would not return to his side.  
She knew, gods she knew.  
Her smile even appeared upon her lovely features while crystal blue tears trailed down over her cheeks.  
“Le melin, Melamin. Le melin..” she spoke. What a brave woman she was. Even in the face of death her voice never lingered one bit of that sooth angelic tunes it sang.  
The orc on the other hand, had had enough of this nonsense. His thick sausages of fingers opening one by one. Her long lasting scream echoed over the battlement…as the starlight in Mirkwood slowly faded.

 

Loud gasping breaths filled the chamber of King Thranduil. Sweat dripped down upon his satin sheets while he combed his fingers through his platinum blonde hair, sitting up upon the bed.  
How many years had it been? Almost centuries had passed since the light of his life had been put out. And every night since he had his dreams filled with the scream of his wife as she plunged to her death. Over the years he had grown bitter as there was none to calm him. None to lay with him in comfort or to share his laughter and smiles.  
Thranduil had become a cruel man, even to his son, Legolas had been too young to even remember his mother and his father hadn’t spoken of her ever. It simply hurt too much…

_He could not live without his starlight…_


	2. On the road we go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This part is actually the beginning of the whole fic.   
> What you saw before, is but a prologue. Enjoy :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is actually the beginning of the whole fic.   
> What you saw before, is but a prologue. Enjoy :)

The company of Thorin Oakenhield made their way through the forest calmly and content when suddenly their gentle strut was exchanged for a hasty sprint, aren’t dwarves natural sprinters? Chased by some scout warg once again. Was there really no time to rest?   
It only became worse when that small hobbit had not seen that their road went downward causing them to trip and roll down. Braches and roots of trees slapping the company across the face, that would surely leave some nasty scars of adorn their features.   
Once they came to a sudden stop, the dwarves jumped into their fighting stance. There was no way they could outrun the beasts now…  
As the first beast stormed towards them, nuzzle dripping drool and whatever fluids that creature could not hold, Kili nocked an arrow onto his bow ready to fire as soon as Thorin would sign him.  
“Wait, Kili…Let him get closer. Wait…..wait” The dwarven king shouted, lifting two of those thick fingers up. His gaze never leaving the raging beasts storming down the hill.   
“Now!” He shouted but shock would soon replace the panicked feeling that had managed to crash upon him. An arrow had pierced the warg straight into the neck and had punchered the vein. But not the one Kili had be ordered to shoot.   
With a loud whimper it collapsed upon the dirt causing a sort of road block for the other wargs to trip over.   
The next events all moved in a gaze, as a man, clad in complete black and features hidden had jumped down out of one of the trees, sending another arrow to strike one of the two remaining beasts in the shoulder.   
Not enough to kill it thou it, but it had caused for the two beasts to neglect their original prey and focus upon the stranger now.   
Frozen and awestruck the company did only watch as the beasts moved to circle their target while the unknown lad kept ahold of his bow. Was he really going to fight their two whom stood merely inches away with a bow.   
Moments seemed to pass while the intimidation continued until the lad simply gripped his bow with both hands and struck the wounded beast right on its enormous skull causing to back off while shaking its head and fall down a few feet further.  
The second however saw its chance and lunged forward with horrible yellowed teeth bare. As if anticipated such a move, the lad turned upon his heel meeting the beast right on, drawing his dagger only to be thrown back as the two collided.  
That was the end of him, the dwarves thought. There was no way somebody could survive such a blow AND escape the massive canines a warg had.   
I do not have to tell you the surprise of the faces of the company when the lad simply emerged from underneath, seemingly unharmed. With a groan his gloved hand gripped onto the dagger he had plunged deeply into the warg, right underneath its chin.   
With the three beasts now laying dead at their feet, the company could regain full focus once more. Thorin kept his dark blue gaze upon the stranger, watching the lad move towards the beasts and checking for a heartbeat.   
The man stood up straight once his task was done, his pale blue stare focusing upon the company. A hobbit, Two dwarven youngsters, an blonde and a brunette, sturdy boys they seemed. A bald one with quite the muscle, would he be compensating for something? Few older dwarves. One that had clearly seen the worst of days. Then there was one whom wore quite the odd headgear. Their savoir stood there, simply giving them a quick look but at the sight of the majestic ebony-haired clad in blue, he stopped, eyes meeting as if waiting for either one to speak.   
Thorin had kept his stare upon the stranger, Leather knee-high boots, a pair of black tights clinging to his legs…which were rather feminine now that he had the time to look at them properly.   
A large hood hung over his features, making it almost impossible to see anything underneath, not that it would have been possible either way. The lad had carefully made sure that his nose and mouth were covered by a red mask. A brown tunic hanging loosely around his body, decorated by a scowl of fur upon his shoulders.  
“We didn’t need your help, stranger. Everything had been under control.” He scoffed as he adjusted the dark blue coat he wore before re-adjusting the sheath of his sword. His pride had been injured more than his physical well-being. If it had not been for the lad they’d have at least a few heavily wounded if not dead and how would that have helped the quest for the lonely mountain.  
“What he means, dear lad. Is thank ye for yer help.” One of the older looking dwarves spoke. He had something friendly and kind about him. Hmm, maybe he’d be far more grateful and polite than the grumpy one.  
The stranger rose an eyebrow before taking a deep breath “I could see that. You were going to do what exactly? Wrestle them to the ground while they tore that lovely little head of yours of your shoulders?” In deep shock of the feminine voice had caused the whole company to look up. The lad had been a lass?! And what a voice she had. Enchanting, soothing, a pleasure for the ears.   
“Forgive me, Miss. A might have mistaken ye for a lad. Yer clothing doesn’t give away much.” The friendly dwarf spoke while the grumpy one gave you another glance but different this time. Curious, almost longing.   
“I be Balin, dear lass.” The older dwarf spoke as he reached his hand towards the stranger. As if deciding the stranger waited, hands hanging besides her slender body. And when what seemed like minutes passed, suddenly a hand reached forward to grasp Balin’s strong one. A gloved hand so small and tender  
“Gwin, pleasure. How does a company of dwarves and a…..hobbit get in so much trouble to be hunted down by orcs and their wargs?” The woman spoke, her voice sounded so kind and serene, easily matching Lady of Lorien’s beauty.  
This made head's turn. Who was this woman?


	3. On the road we go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This part is actually the beginning of the whole fic.   
> What you saw before, is but a prologue. Enjoy :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is actually the beginning of the whole fic.   
> What you saw before, is but a prologue. Enjoy :)

The company of Thorin Oakenhield made their way through the forest calmly and content when suddenly their gentle strut was exchanged for a hasty sprint, aren’t dwarves natural sprinters? Chased by some scout warg once again. Was there really no time to rest?   
It only became worse when that small hobbit had not seen that their road went downward causing them to trip and roll down. Braches and roots of trees slapping the company across the face, that would surely leave some nasty scars of adorn their features.   
Once they came to a sudden stop, the dwarves jumped into their fighting stance. There was no way they could outrun the beasts now…  
As the first beast stormed towards them, nuzzle dripping drool and whatever fluids that creature could not hold, Kili nocked an arrow onto his bow ready to fire as soon as Thorin would sign him.  
“Wait, Kili…Let him get closer. Wait…..wait” The dwarven king shouted, lifting two of those thick fingers up. His gaze never leaving the raging beasts storming down the hill.   
“Now!” He shouted but shock would soon replace the panicked feeling that had managed to crash upon him. An arrow had pierced the warg straight into the neck and had punchered the vein. But not the one Kili had be ordered to shoot.   
With a loud whimper it collapsed upon the dirt causing a sort of road block for the other wargs to trip over.   
The next events all moved in a gaze, as a man, clad in complete black and features hidden had jumped down out of one of the trees, sending another arrow to strike one of the two remaining beasts in the shoulder.   
Not enough to kill it thou it, but it had caused for the two beasts to neglect their original prey and focus upon the stranger now.   
Frozen and awestruck the company did only watch as the beasts moved to circle their target while the unknown lad kept ahold of his bow. Was he really going to fight their two whom stood merely inches away with a bow.   
Moments seemed to pass while the intimidation continued until the lad simply gripped his bow with both hands and struck the wounded beast right on its enormous skull causing to back off while shaking its head and fall down a few feet further.  
The second however saw its chance and lunged forward with horrible yellowed teeth bare. As if anticipated such a move, the lad turned upon his heel meeting the beast right on, drawing his dagger only to be thrown back as the two collided.  
That was the end of him, the dwarves thought. There was no way somebody could survive such a blow AND escape the massive canines a warg had.   
I do not have to tell you the surprise of the faces of the company when the lad simply emerged from underneath, seemingly unharmed. With a groan his gloved hand gripped onto the dagger he had plunged deeply into the warg, right underneath its chin.   
With the three beasts now laying dead at their feet, the company could regain full focus once more. Thorin kept his dark blue gaze upon the stranger, watching the lad move towards the beasts and checking for a heartbeat.   
The man stood up straight once his task was done, his pale blue stare focusing upon the company. A hobbit, Two dwarven youngsters, an blonde and a brunette, sturdy boys they seemed. A bald one with quite the muscle, would he be compensating for something? Few older dwarves. One that had clearly seen the worst of days. Then there was one whom wore quite the odd headgear. Their savoir stood there, simply giving them a quick look but at the sight of the majestic ebony-haired clad in blue, he stopped, eyes meeting as if waiting for either one to speak.   
Thorin had kept his stare upon the stranger, Leather knee-high boots, a pair of black tights clinging to his legs…which were rather feminine now that he had the time to look at them properly.   
A large hood hung over his features, making it almost impossible to see anything underneath, not that it would have been possible either way. The lad had carefully made sure that his nose and mouth were covered by a red mask. A brown tunic hanging loosely around his body, decorated by a scowl of fur upon his shoulders.  
“We didn’t need your help, stranger. Everything had been under control.” He scoffed as he adjusted the dark blue coat he wore before re-adjusting the sheath of his sword. His pride had been injured more than his physical well-being. If it had not been for the lad they’d have at least a few heavily wounded if not dead and how would that have helped the quest for the lonely mountain.  
“What he means, dear lad. Is thank ye for yer help.” One of the older looking dwarves spoke. He had something friendly and kind about him. Hmm, maybe he’d be far more grateful and polite than the grumpy one.  
The stranger rose an eyebrow before taking a deep breath “I could see that. You were going to do what exactly? Wrestle them to the ground while they tore that lovely little head of yours of your shoulders?” In deep shock of the feminine voice had caused the whole company to look up. The lad had been a lass?! And what a voice she had. Enchanting, soothing, a pleasure for the ears.   
“Forgive me, Miss. A might have mistaken ye for a lad. Yer clothing doesn’t give away much.” The friendly dwarf spoke while the grumpy one gave you another glance but different this time. Curious, almost longing.   
“I be Balin, dear lass.” The older dwarf spoke as he reached his hand towards the stranger. As if deciding the stranger waited, hands hanging besides her slender body. And when what seemed like minutes passed, suddenly a hand reached forward to grasp Balin’s strong one. A gloved hand so small and tender  
“Gwin, pleasure. How does a company of dwarves and a…..hobbit get in so much trouble to be hunted down by orcs and their wargs?” The woman spoke, her voice sounded so kind and serene, easily matching Lady of Lorien’s beauty.  
This made head's turn. Who was this woman?

**Author's Note:**

> I know that both in movies and even less in books, Thranduil's wife is not mentioned. But it seems so sad and I had this idea when I rewatched the hobbit movies that gave me this idea  
> \- This WILL be a series :D this is only the epiloge
> 
> It is my first fic ever published. Tips in the comments and please feedback is asked. :3
> 
>  
> 
> Melamin: my love  
> Le melin: I love you


End file.
